


Pizza Confessions

by lisboun



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance, tw: abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25265140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisboun/pseuds/lisboun
Summary: The latest case brings back painful memories of Lisbon's difficult childhood. Patrick Jane is on it. Set during CBI days, around season 3.
Relationships: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	Pizza Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! So this is the first fic I've published since like 2013. I've been rewatching The Mentalist and reigniting all of my feelings for Jane and Lisbon—this is the result. Please note I wrote this in the middle of rewatching season 3, so I guess this story takes place around that time. Rated T for some strong language and descriptions of violence. TW for abuse.

The cheesy fragrance of case-closed pizza wafted through the Major Crimes bullpen as the day drew to a close. Rigsby breathed a sigh of relief once he saw the logo on the boxes—it was that of Leonardo's Pizzas, and not Leo's Pizza Palace where Cho had mistakenly ordered from last time. Leonard _O'_ s was quality.

This week's pizza party was more lively than usual—they had just closed a big case requiring collaboration with multiple departments. The Cyber Crimes Unit, Sac PD, and Organized Crimes were all crowded in the bullpen, indulging in greasy, cheesy respite as the sun went down. Camaraderie was abound as the different teams mingled. Even Cho was seen engaged in conversation with Gomez from CCU about the latest baseball results.

Jane appeared to be quite engrossed in entertaining the local rookies with his cheapest magic tricks. However, the consultant did not fail to remain observant of his wider surroundings. In the left corner of his peripheral vision, he saw senior agent Lisbon quietly slip out from the bullpen, the single slice of pizza on her plate untouched. _Very unlike her,_ he mused. Even when upset, Lisbon could inhale many a slice of pineapple pizza. Today, she was bothered by something different from the usual stressors.

He slyly wrapped up his card con and pushed $20 bills back into the hands of the rookies who had naively gambled with them. "Here you go, fellas," he said. "Buy yourselves something nice." They hesitated, surprised that he had returned his winnings, and contemplated whether to insist that he keep them. But Jane's mind was already focused on a different objective. Before the newbies could say a word, he was already piling fresh, warm slices of pineapple pizza onto a new plate and stuffing napkins into his pockets. He grabbed a second plate to create a lid, and then strided out of the bullpen in search of Lisbon.

He didn't even need to check her office to know she wasn't in there. It was too close to the bullpen—she would have felt awkward sitting so close to the commotion without participating. Self-conscious that people's impressions of her as asocial would be validated. Her planner, which she never left without, had still been sitting on Van Pelt's desk—she hadn't gone home. That narrowed the possibilities down to just a few places. Jane arrived at the elevator and pressed the button to summon an ascending car.

\- - - - - 

Lisbon didn't come up to the CBI roof often, let alone after dark. Any breaks she took during the workday were spent on the same floor as Major Crimes, to save the elevator commute. However today had been a strange day, and she found herself drawn up to the roof as if it were more familiar to her.

The July air was dry and warm, fortunately not uncomfortable like she had feared on her way up. There was even a pleasant little breeze that picked up every now and then, cooling her face and tugging at her hair. Away from the chains of professionalism, she shed her blazer and bared her arms to the breeze in the remaining tank top. Though there were proper tables and chairs set up on the roof's west side, she chose to sit on the ground, her back resting against the window looking into the attic where Jane sometimes worked.

She didn't feel like herself. Her usual self wouldn't have thought to come up to the roof. Her usual self wouldn't have had an untouched plate of pizza. A million thoughts raced through her mind, competing with each other for her attention. They were mostly of memories—and not good ones. They were memories from the distant past, memories she thought she had finally locked away in a box and then successfully torched. She scolded herself for being naive. Of course they would always come back—they were such a big part of her.

Distracted by all the mental noise, she didn't flinch when the roof door creaked open but rather when Jane planted himself down beside her. "Good evening, Lisbon. Fancy seeing you up here."

She whipped her head to the left and snapped back into the present. The smell of pineapple and cheese filled her nose. Jane had brought up a plate stacked with 4 big slices of pizza, still hot. He set the plate down in her lap. "Two for you, two for me."

She handed it back to him. "I'm not hungry. I still have my first slice to eat."

"Eh, save that one for reheating later. It's cold now."

"I said I'm not hungry." As the surprise wore off, she started to feel self-conscious, and this was converted to annoyance. She had come up to the roof to be alone, and of course Jane had to disrupt that like he did with everything else. "What are you doing up here?" she huffed.

"I could ask you the same thing, Lisbon. I'm just here to enjoy the fresh air and eat some pizza." He gathered two slices of the stack onto his own plate and took a bite. "Mmm."

Lisbon grew quiet again, breaking eye contact and staring out ahead at the blocky local skyline. Sensing she could not be ameliorated with the usual humor, Jane put down his plate instead of taking a third bite.

"It's the case, isn't it?" It was a rhetorical question. He already knew. Lisbon didn't feel the need to confirm.

"You're thinking about the Xiangs," he proceeded.

Again, she answered with silence.

"They remind you of your family."

She was very good at hiding it, but Jane could detect her eyebrows furrowing just a tiny bit more, wincing at hearing her thoughts spoken aloud. He took no pleasure in being correct.

The Xiangs were the family of their latest homicide victim. It was composed of Father Frederick Xiang, and children Cristina, Kyle, Caleb, and Colin Xiang. Ages 13, 9, 6, and 4 respectively. Left suddenly spouseless and motherless after Li Xiang was killed for just trying to do the right thing. The family composition was uncanny—dead mom leaves behind a troubled husband, eldest daughter, and 3 young boys. It mirrored Lisbon's own childhood to a tee. 

While the victim's boss was ultimately pinned as her murderer, the husband had remained a top suspect throughout the investigation. It wasn't rocket science, given his history of multiple stints in rehab for alcoholism and gambling. Well-meaning but obviously deeply troubled. He had previous arrests related to drinking, but none of them had been for assault.

Lisbon felt it in her bones that this was because the abuse was being kept at home.

It was hidden well. There were no abnormal bruisings seen or history of suspicious injuries reported when they interviewed the Xiang kids in the presence of their aunt. On the surface the kids seemed fine. Maybe a little shy, but within normal limits for young children who didn't go out much. There were no suspicions of abuse noted in any of their files.

She had been able to see right through their front. Lisbon picked up on the way the children hesitated before expressing any subjective opinion. The way they sat with their arms crossed and their feet together, on defense by default. The way they hung their heads low, avoiding eye contact unless when spoken to directly. The way they flinched, ever so slightly, at any sudden movement of her hands. She knew these were the products of physical and verbal abuse, no doubt committed by their father during substance-fueled black outs. They were identical to the characteristics she saw develop in her little brothers after their father started drinking heavily.

But no one had believed her when she voiced her concerns. There was just no evidence. No 911 calls, no reports of assault, acting out in school, prior involvement of DCFS, nothing. Of course the children vehemently denied any wrongdoings from their father when asked, and their aunt was just clueless. Lisbon had felt like she was swimming against the current trying to get her concerns taken seriously by the rest of the crew on the case. Everyone had assumed that she was projecting, but had not had the courage to actually point out the connection to her own history. Even Jane couldn't see the signs, which surprised her given his history with his own father. Nope, for once this was insight only Lisbon had. This was something that she knew inside and out, more than Jane or anyone else. And it killed her that she wasn't able to do anything about it. She had called up DCFS multiple times during the case, but without any tangible evidence they waffled on getting involved. _Asshats._

"Lisbon?" Jane broke her deep rumination. "You okay?"

She wasn't exactly okay. A certain vivid memory swirled in her mind, itching to escape from the reservoir. It wasn't like her to share such personal things with Jane, but again the circumstances were not the usual. The skyline in front of her and scent of pizza in the air faded as she was pulled back into her childhood. She took a deep breath. "One time," she began. "I decided that enough was enough."

"It was summer, so school was out and we were all home a lot of the time. I wasn't old enough to get a real job yet, so I worked under the table at a local restaurant. One night, I came home after a shift, and there was glass shattered all over the kitchen floor. The house smelled like whiskey. And like blood. I found my two youngest brothers hiding in the hall closet, crying. I was so angry that they hadn't called me to come home right when things started to go wrong. But I knew they weren't the ones to blame. My oldest little brother, Tommy, was lying half-unconscious on the living room floor. There was blood streaming from his nose and his face was so badly bruised. Next to him on the sofa, my father was completely blacked out. All my brother had done was ask if he could go out to the movies with some friends. And he was brutalized for it."

This was a story Lisbon had not told him before—well, not one that she had told anyone, really, aside from counselors. Jane had long known about her abusive childhood and had filled in most of the blanks himself, but this was the first time hearing her recount it in such detail. 

"It was the most scared I had ever been since my mother died. I remember being in so much shock. It was far from the first time my father had laid his hands on us, but it was the most damage he had done to that date. I didn't even have my driver's license yet. I had only driven a few times around the neighborhood, below speed limit. But I knew we couldn't afford the bill for an ambulance, so I took the keys to the car and drove Tommy and my other brothers to the hospital."

Jane's chest tightened as he pictured young Lisbon, even tinier than she was now, getting behind the wheel of a station wagon and sitting at the edge of the seat in order to reach the car pedals. Terrified for her brother's life, but keeping composure because she knew she had a responsibility as his protector. Her mother had been a nurse, but died before she could pass on much of her medical knowledge to her daughter. 

She continued. "The emergency room doctors were really nice. My brother had a broken nose and bruises, but thankfully no concussion or other broken bones.  They were definitely concerned about what had caused the injuries—I could tell they were suspicious of abuse. But it was the first time I had the chance to tell anyone about my father's problems. I hesitated on the spot because I didn't have time to think through the greater consequences of telling. I was so close to doing it. But I was afraid of putting my father in jail. I couldn't do that to him. He was a monster when drunk, but I knew it stemmed from great sadness and trouble. I knew he loved us, even if it was only while he was sober. 

So I told the doctors that my brother had fallen face-down, down the stairs due to a stupid prank gone wrong. _Boys, right?_ _What can ya do._ They weren't stupid, I could tell they weren't totally convinced. But my brothers didn't disagree with me, and the emergency room was packed full that night with victims of a huge local apartment fire. They didn't have the time or attention span to prod further, and thankfully my brother's injuries weren't considered critical. So they let us leave.

I was so angry at myself on the drive home. _Dammit, Teresa. Why didn't you tell? You finally had a chance to get help, and you fucked it up. The next time any of us gets hurt, it's going to be your fault._ I reminded myself of my reasoning—I didn't want to get my father in trouble and make things worse. But when I looked in the rearview mirror at my little brothers, still pale from fear, I knew I had to do something. If protecting my brothers meant getting our father taken away, then so be it. I decided to call the Department of Child and Family Services myself." 

On regular days, Jane would have made a teasing remark about young Lisbon's dirty mouth. But today he refrained. He was a touch surprised at how much she was disclosing to him. She was actually talking to him about her _fe_ _elings._ Perhaps he had underestimated how much she actually trusted him, or overestimated how much she relied on isolation. He long knew that her calm, cool demeanor was carefully crafted to protect vulnerabilities, but he always thought he would have to pry the details out of her. 

"I had it all planned out. I was scheduled for an afternoon shift at the restaurant the next day—I was going to call using the work phone so that my father couldn't overhear me. I was going to call at the end of my shift so that I could head home right after to meet whoever they sent to the house. I prepared myself for the likely events: police cars, handcuffs, my father looking at me like I was a traitor, my brothers crying but also relieved, foster parents. I braced myself for the stress of it all but I knew it was for the best. I was ready to handle it. 

And then the next morning came around and my father woke up, hungover but sober. He had absolutely no recollection of what had happened the previous night. When he saw Tommy's face I explained to him what he had done, and he was inconsolable. _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. Oh, Tommy boy. I didn't mean to hurt you. Teresa, thank you for taking Tommy to the hospital. You are such a brave girl. What would I do without you?_ Funny—when he was sober I was a _"brave girl_ ," but when he wasn't, I was a " _little bitch_." I could never tell which one he actually meant. 

He apologized to us all so profusely and made us pancakes and eggs for breakfast. He swore to be better, to not drink as much. To never hurt us like that again. _You didn't tell the doctors it was me, right 'Resa? Good girl. That would just bring more trouble, right? Don't worry honey, I got this under control. I will keep myself in line, I promise."_

Lisbon paused and buried her head into her hands, looking defeated. "I was such a fool to believe him."

Jane rested a palm gently on her back. "You're not a fool, Lisbon. It wasn't your fault." 

"I didn't call DCFS," she continued. "I told myself to wait a little longer. I thought maybe he would get better, especially now that he had seen more dire consequences of his drinking. And things actually were good, for a while. I could tell he was trying. But eventually, it happened again. And again. And each time I still couldn't bring myself to make the call. So I continued to subject myself and my brothers to his physical and verbal abuse. For years." 

The years of great pain and suffering fresh in her mind, Lisbon felt hot tears forming in her eyes now. She kept her head buried so that Jane would not see them. She hated it when he saw her cry—she didn't want any of his pity, or anyone else's for that matter. 

Of course, Jane didn't need to see her tears to know that they were there. "It wasn't your fault," he repeated. "Lisbon, it was not your fault." He moved closer to her and wrapped an arm behind her, around her waist. "You were trying to protect your father. Because that's what you do—protect." He placed his other hand on hers and gently pried them away from her face. Feeling very emotional and still not wanting to meet his gaze, Lisbon turned and burrowed her head again, this time in his shoulder. She couldn't believe she was admitting it, but she felt better having him there. 

Jane, never shy of physical contact, lowered his face to kiss the top of her head. As expected, her hair smelled of warm cinnamon and pine, with a little twinge of dark coffee. He found himself pulling her even closer to him, tightening his grasp so much that he was practically squeezing her. Lisbon spent her whole life protecting others. He wanted to be the one who could protect _her_. The lump in his throat grew as he imagined countless instances of her being hit and screamed at, and the unerasable trauma that it most certainly caused. His fist tightened as he grew angrier and angrier at the long-deceased Father Lisbon. 

Surprisingly, she didn't resist his grip. Lisbon, who usually avoided any sort of physical affection like the plague, found herself quite comforted by Jane. She felt vulnerable after disclosing so much, but it was due to her spiking emotions rather than any regret of sharing her past with him. Sure, when they were working cases she took anything he said with a grain of salt and was always on the lookout for his deceptions. And he annoyed the crap out of her on a regular basis. But at the end of the day, when it came down to it, she trusted Jane more than anyone else. She gathered a lot of satisfaction from knowing that she meant the same to him—he ensured it was far from a secret. 

"I'm so sorry all of that happened to you, Lisbon," Jane said, lifting his face up from her hair. "I never want you to have to go through that or feel like that again." 

"Thanks, Jane." 

"I'll protect you. I'll be here." 

She let out an amused chuckle. "Ha. You know I'm the one with the gun and badge, right?" 

"Oh, right, sorry. I forgot about all that. Well, in that case carry on then." 

Tears now evaporating, she finally turned her head to look up at him, her head still on his shoulder. "Very funny." 

He met her gaze and smiled his full Cheshire Cat smile. His face then hardened again before saying, "I'm serious, Lisbon. I will always be here for you. If anyone ever hurts you like that again, I will kill them.”

The firmness of his voice and the darkness of his expression took Lisbon aback. It was a notch up from what she was used to with him. She hesitated and just blinked at him, not knowing what to say but not wanting to just reply with a mere "thanks” or cheapen the statement with “I’ll have to arrest you.”

She suddenly became conscious of how tight he was still holding her. His arm was still wrapped around her waist, quite a bit lower than what would usually be considered platonic. She recalled how he had sniffed her hair and gently rubbed his thumb in circles on her hand to calm her down. And, most potent of all, the way he was looking at her now. Earnestly telling her that he would in fact kill for her. Lisbon may not be a mind reader or psychic, but she was still a damn good detective. It did not take much for her to add the little details together to confirm a sneaking suspicion she had held for a while now. She hadn't expected it to be confirmed this way, but of course nothing could ever be predictable with Jane. 

He loved her. 

And even more than that, he was _in_ love with her. 

Her heart whirred as she considered this conclusion. There was no room for doubt. No one looked at their platonic friend like that, no matter how much they cared about them. No, his eyes were full of longing. For her. 

There were now a lot of different neural pathways firing at once. She was still anxious and angry over the Xiang case. Vulnerable and sad over the memories that it brought back. Determined to get DCFS to listen to her this time. And now this new revelation. _Dammit, why did Jane pick today of all days to do this?_ Was she even thinking straight? Perhaps she was just seeing things that weren't there... 

"Lisbon." It wasn't the preamble to a question or statement—he just spoke her name and left it hanging in the air. Lisbon could detect a slight shakiness in his voice—he was nervous.

"Jane." An apt response, and also the only one she could manage at the moment. Her mind was still going a mile a minute, spinning around indecisively. The two of them were having a staring contest now, jewel-green on ocean-green eyes. Lisbon took her head off his shoulder and straightened her posture so that their eyes were more level. 

Still silence. The doubt that she had denied before was starting to creep into her mind now. Maybe she was just imagining things. He definitely cared strongly for her, but maybe just as a friend. The confidence she had felt just moments earlier faded, and she attributed it to her skyrocketing emotions. Now, she felt uncomfortable. Jane wasn't known for his silence. If he had wanted to say something, he would've said so. Holding on to any false hopes would just hurt more. She had some calls to make, anyhow. 

"We should get back downstairs," she said, wiggling out of his grasp. She leaned forward to grab her blazer. "The team is going to be wondering—" 

She was cut off as she felt Jane's hand gently grab her wrist, stopping it mid-air. He did it quickly, but not aggressively. "Lisbon, wait." 

Again there was a period of silence. It was actually starting to frustrate her now. She didn't like feeling so uncertain. "What?" she said, a frown starting to form on her face. 

Jane leaned in closer, and paused before his face met hers. He had to say it, declare it. She had been right—he wasn't one to do things quietly. There had to be an announcement first. 

"Lisbon, I love you." 

A siren started going off in Lisbon's head. _Holy fucking shit,_ he actually said it. Right? _I can't believe he just said that,_ she thought. _I can't believe he just said that. I can't believe he just said that. I can't believe he just said that._ And he said it with the same concrete sincerity as when he said he would kill for her. It wasn't her imagining things after all—she had been right all this time. He actually did love her. _Love._ The word swirled around in her head and drowned out everything else for the moment. 

His hand was still around her wrist. "Is it alright if I kiss you?" he asked. 

All Lisbon could manage was a husky "yes," and that was that. Kiss her he did, gently but sincerely. Lisbon's mind had basically shorted out at this point. To hell with thinking. All that mattered was that she wanted this. Wanted him. She cupped his cheek with her free hand as he wrapped his arm around her waist once again. Leaning over and pressing herself closer to him, she felt his heart beating. His other hand released her wrist in favor of intertwining their fingers. 

Jane's stomach was doing flips. He hadn't expected this to happen tonight. Spontaneously. He had been planning on telling her with a grander gesture, not by bringing her pizzas on the roof of the CBI. But it felt right. He couldn't have sat there any minute longer—his heart would have burst. He loved her so much and he had to tell her, even if she already knew. He had been so scared. But now, she was kissing him back. _Oh gee, this is actually happening._

Just when it started to deepen further, their kiss was disrupted by the chime of a cell phone. Lisbon broke away from Jane and checked her phone, still in a daze. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing disheveled strands away from her face. 

"It's Cho. He's asking where we are." She giggled and looked up at Jane, who was equally giddy. "We better actually get downstairs now." She leaned in for a final peck on his lips and then reached for her blazer, grabbing it successfully this time. 

"Aw, really? I'm sure Cho won't mind if we are gone for a few more minutes..." 

"C'mon." She began to smirk. "We can continue this later." 

They stood up, still quite disoriented. Jane grabbed their long-abandoned plates of pizza, now cold. "You know, these would be better as leftovers for tomorrow's lunch. We should get some hot, fresh food. How about that diner on Main?" 

Lisbon raised her eyebrows at him. "Smooth," she said, but without objection. 

"We can make a game plan to get DCFS in on the Xiangs." He looped an arm through hers. 

Having him on board—well, having him in general—was a relief. "That would be great." 

\- - - - - 

Many hours later, they were both curled up in Lisbon's bed. She had agreed to let Jane sleep over as long as he, one—didn't hog the covers, and two—didn't psychoanalyze her bedtime routine. Jane had pointed out that the first condition was quite ironic given that he fully expected _her_ to be the one hogging the covers. _Oh hush. You don't know me._

It was hard to believe that not even a full day had passed since Jane's declaration and their kiss. Everything already felt so established. There was no awkwardness around him sleeping over. It felt like the hundredth time rather than the first. Lisbon didn't feel any pressure to act differently with him because he didn't feel like a guest. 

They had spent a long time at the diner eating waffles and crafting a plan for the next day. Lisbon's mind was put slightly more at ease—even if it involved some usual Jane trickery, it seemed like they had a pretty solid shot at exposing Fred Xiang's domestic abuse. She was confident that they would be able to get DCFS involved to help the Xiang kids hopefully avoid many more years of pain. 

Feeling secure about these next steps, she shifted her focus now to Jane, who was lying next to her wearing her Chicago Bears jersey. With his head propped up on an elbow, he was silent again, staring intently at her. 

"What?"

"Nothing. Just taking this all in." 

"You're creeping me out." 

"Oh am I now?" 

He knew she was joking, but she gave him a smile anyway.

"Jane?" 

"Yes, Lisbon." 

"Say it again." 

"Say what again?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. _You know what I'm talking about_. 

He smiled and paused, "taking it all in." Then he leaned down to kiss her. "I love you, Lisbon. I love you so, so, so much." He gave her another kiss after each "so—" one on the forehead, one on the cheek, and one on the nose. 

The moonlight shining in from the window illuminated Lisbon's dimples as she smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

"I love you so, so, so much too." 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the read :') I definitely referenced the season 6 finale at the end there because I could never forget that haha. I had a good time writing this so I will probably have some more stories published soon. Feel free to leave any requests in the comments!


End file.
